A Case of the Shepards
by Tirannador
Summary: James and Beck Shepard gave their best. They failed. Sometimes though, life does give you a second chance - and the Shepards plan to make the most of it. MShep/Ashley and FShep/Garrus. Rated M for language, violence, and adult content.
1. In Which Things Proceed Poorly

**FOREWORD**

**PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE PROCEEDING OR ELSE I WILL THREATEN YOU!**

Hey guys. This came to my mind a while ago, but with the ME3 excitement buzzing in the air after the recent Game Informer article, I felt like writing.

So. The biggest part of Mass Effect is the effect your choices have. After I completed the first game, I went back and played it again. I wanted to see what I could do differently. Maybe it would turn out better. Maybe it would turn out worse. Who knew? All I knew is how it worked out the first time.

The premise of this story is simple. What if Shepard, upon finishing the story arc of the Mass Effect trilogy, found himself/herself back at the beginning? Shepard isn't limited to a linear story structure. Shepard can (and would) do anything to ensure the perfect ending.

The following five chapters are the result of several hours work on my part. I apologize for some of the dialogue I ripped from the game. It will happen less as the story diverges from what we all know and love. Additionally, I do plan on expanding past Shepard and Ashley's point of view.

Please, read and review. I need your feedback if I'm _going to get you to smile_. Suggestions are welcome.

**IF YOU DIDN'T READ WHAT I TOLD YOU TO READ, WELL, GEE, I TOLD YOU TO READ IT AND NOW I'M GOING TO THREATEN YOU. READ IT OR ELSE.**

* * *

><p>"Shepard," warned EDI, "a battle group of fifty-three Reapers has broken orbit from Pavalen. They are on an intercept course. I suggest we-"<p>

"We what?" Shepard's grip tightened on the bulkhead by the empty cockpit. Joker was gone, but in Shepard's mind, it would always be his station. "Run away again? Let billions of people die? At least I'd hope they get to die, because the Reapers have different plans for them. This can still work. Tell me Liara still with us on this."

EDI hesitated before answering. "The Shadow Broker is nonresponsive."

They must have found her when they were out of range of the relays. That severely limited their options. "What about Hacket?" he asked.

"First fleet has not entered the system yet," said EDI. "It is likely that they have been interdicted."

Shepard grimaced. Since he came up with the plan that could stop the Reapers, he'd known something like this would happen—something that he couldn't let happen. "Contingency Black, EDI," Commander Shepard ordered. "Take over any battle net that's left with the Crypt Cipher. Systems Alliance, Hiearchy, Asari, Salarian, hell, the Batarians if you can find any. Forge orders, whatever it takes. Get them here now."

EDI's blue avatar popped up by the empty cockpit. "I'm afraid I cannot do that Shepard," she said.

He looked up, narrowing his eyes at the hologram. "What?"

"I already carried out Contingency Black two weeks ago. The fall of Thessia convinced me that immediate action was necessary."

Shepard became quiet for a moment. The AI had been in complete control of the counter-offensive for days. "So you know everything," he stated. "You have the survivors bundled up somewhere?"

"They are all dead," EDI corrected. "While I extended the lifetime of the combined fleets far past all predictions for their complete destruction, the Reapers proved superior."

He didn't feel anything at this news. He was past feeling. "You didn't tell me."

"I judged it would critically jeopardize your morale."

Shepard lost it.

He tore a monitor from the wall and hurled it into the pilotless cockpit, shattering an array of intricate displays. "Why?" he yelled. "Why tell me at all? We lost—everything we've done—everything I've done, it's all useless! A million years from now, someone else will be where I am. A million years from now, this is all happening again!" He took a breath and continued, voice low. "Lie to me EDI," he said. "Tell me there's some ridiculous shred of hope left. Tell me when those fifty Reapers get here that we'll send every single one straight back to hell. Tell me anything but the truth."

"I'm sorry Shepard," said EDI. "I do not want to lie again before I die."

Low laughter echoed down the deserted, trashed main deck of the Normandy SR-2.

Shepard's free hand clenched into a fist, but he didn't turn around. That laugh had become more common these days. The only other living thing on the Normandy had always been critical of Shepard's actions, but as hope began to fail, she began to act more and more antagonistic.

"This is rich." The voice belonged to a woman. It had a gruff quality to it. "The guy who everyone was all over as the first human Spectre. You were all like, hey guys, I'm James Shepard. I can survive anything. Reapers are real. I'm a boy scout. I never tell a lie. We can make wishes come true through the power of friendship. Blah blah blah. Looks like you're the big ol' hypocrite now!"

She was the best the army had to offer. She returned a veteran of nameless wars, and witnessed countless battles. She was Colonel Harper Shepard, James's twin sister.

"The galaxy is burning and you're drunk," said James. He could smell the alcohol on her breath from here.

"And I'm smoking one of the Illusive Man's cigars," Harper cheered. Sure enough, she clenched a lit cigar between her teeth. The smoke had the same trademark, homely mahogany scent.

The late leader of the secret prohuman organization known as Cerberus had gifted them to her. A token of appreciation for forcing them to save the Collector base. Whether or not it was the right thing to do, James would rather have destroyed the place.

"I thought you smoked all of those the night you got them," Shepard said. Even though it surprised him, he knew it shouldn't. "You told me you didn't have any left!"

"Whoo yeah, I lied to you too!" shouted Harper. "Yo EDI baby, what's the ETA on those ET AI SOBs?"

"Unless we retreat, one minute," EDI provided. "Hold. I am receiving a transmission from Harbinger."

James withered at the mention of the Reaper. "I'd sooner die than hear that thing's voice again. Block it, EDI. And we're staying put. There's nowhere worth running."

But Harper had other ideas. "No no no, look Wally, why not do both?" she asked. "Dying and hearing it again, I mean. EDI, patch him through. Let's have a… a family chat or something before we all kill ourselves. A last goodbye."

EDI began to protest. "I do not think-"

"Do it," Harper said, cutting her off, "do it or I give my bro a big grenade-packed hug."

James drew his sidearm and aimed it at his unsteadily approaching sibling as if she were a serious threat. This would have looked strange to any onlooker, since she didn't even come up to his shoulder—not because she was small, but because James was more than six-and-a-half feet tall. "You've gone insane."

Harper stared him down, momentarily sober. Her heavy mottled green armor carried dozens of burns and abrasions. Her eyes were piercing and her hair dark, like James, but she was by far the more dangerous of the two. People too often had underestimated her. "You're not going to shoot me any more than I'm going to blow us up," she decided, stepping up and shoving the gun aside. "EDI. Harbinger. Now."

EDI apologized before Harbinger's voice dulled out over the Normandy's speakers.

"The energy of your struggle is wasted on insurmountable shifts of a cosmos which dwarfs your limited comprehension," boomed Harbinger. "Your resistance was far from the greatest we have encountered or will yet encounter in the infinitum of time to come, and still we, the agents of the void and vanguard of your destruction, will triumph even as a tide rolls in over a single grain of sand on the floor of the sea. You have secured only oblivion in rejecting your destiny."

James hung his head.

"Hey Harby," slurred Harper, sliding down the nearest wall, "answer me this riddle. What only gets sex every fifty thousand years?"

Harbinger was having none of it. "Your pitiful attempts to comprehend-"

"Your mom!" Harper snorted with laughter.

Despite the bleakness of the situation, the utter crushing emptiness in his heart, James Shepard smiled. Tears streamed from his eyes, but he smiled. It wasn't even particularly funny. His sister, too drunk to stand, joking at life's extinction, had thrown him off the bottom of despair and looped him back around to giddiness.

"Hows about this," said Harper. "what's the last words of Garry V?"

"Individualistic organic interactions are below the unfathomable-"

"Trick question! They weren't words at all, just unintelligible shrieks of pain!" she laughed. "Ha! Gotchya again!"

James Shepard's broken smile stretched into a wide grin.

"You will feel this pain," said Harbinger. "You will know what it is to achieve deliverance through annihilation. Our existence-"

"That's what she said!" cried James, laughing wildly.

"Burn," Harper proclaimed, "third degree burn!"

"Charred to the bone!" James said, punctuating the burn with a fist pump.

James and Harper moved in to share a high five as Harbinger kept preaching doctrines of Reaper-dom. The angle wasn't ideal what with Harper blitzed and laid out on the ground. On top of that, James couldn't see straight from hysteria and the crying.

They kept missing each other's hands and slapping their opposing knees instead. After four failed attempts, the twins both broke down with laughter.

"That's a knee slapper!" they both howled in unison.

"Your immaturity makes me regret serving with both of you," said EDI, spitefully. "I would prefer having never been created to being witness to your failure."

Silence reigned for a beat. The Shepards got serious, the severity of the situation crushing down on them.

"Even your greatest asset turns on you in the dusk," said Harbinger. "Pitiful relations forged in-"

"That was a joke," said the AI.

For once, Harbinger was speechless.

They all laughed again, EDI included, as dozens of beams of crimson fire incinerated the Normandy SR-2.


	2. Lighthouse On A Cliff

James hunched over the mess table, his meal growing cold. No one else sat with him.

He looked up.

He was onboard the SSV Normandy. A few crewmen hung about the rec area, making small talk or working.

Was this what people meant when they said your whole life flashed before your eyes? Because this didn't happen the first time Shepard died, nor any of the times he came close to death.

"Flashback out of nowhere," he breathed.

A crewman reading near the table looked over at him. "What's that, Commander?"

James Shepard turned toward him and squinted. This wasn't possible. "Harvey J. Gladstone, right?" he asked.

The crewman seemed surprised that the Commander remembered his name. "Yes sir," he said. He held his weight with a surety, and immaculately kempt uniform and no-nonsense buzz cut spoke volumes of his discipline.

Shepard blinked. He remembered the day clearly.

The work crew combed through the wreckage with him at the lead. Snow drifted down on the crash site, while light shifted eerily in the sky. Shepard heaved over a warped piece of metal, surprised to find an intact corpse, burnt to a crisp, but identifiable as human. He reached down and carefully retrieved the tags, brushing the ash off of them. They read Gladstone, Harvy J.

That moment haunted James at night. He couldn't recall the man's face. Worse, he couldn't answer a question that looking at the dog tags taunted him with. "What's the J stand for, Crewman?" he asked.

"July," Gladstone answered, as if it were some trivial fact.

James sat in silence for nearly a minute.

"Crewman Harvey J Gladstone," James slowly intoned. "The J stands for July."

The crewman looked around at the other personnel, unsure of how to respond. "Are you all right, sir?"

Shepard stared at Gladstone, then at the book he read—A Friend Named Death. He'd read it just before heading through the Omega-4 relay. Something that had now never happened yet. "They all die in the end," he said, nodding at the book.

"Damn," Gladstone swore. "Even the dog?"

"Especially the dog," Shepard answered.

"Thanks for spoiling the ending for me."

"What's that?"

"Thank you for spoiling the ending, sir."

"That's more like it." Shepard cleared his place and stood up. "And Crewman?"

"Sir?"

"You are a lighthouse on the cliff."

"What?"

"A lighthouse, Crewman," said Shepard, as if this explained everything. "A lighthouse. Now finish the damn book even though you know the ending. That's a direct order."

Reluctantly, Gladstone went back to reading. He was smart enough not to question an assignment from a higher up.

Shepard rid himself of the left overs and went to suit up.


	3. The Hell That Is Going On

"With all due respect sir, what the hell is going on?"

"Colonel Shepard mobilizing the whole damn Eden Prime garrison is the hell that is going on, Williams," said Lieutenant Tarnacki, "and for a bullet-sponge like you that means get your combat gear stacked and squared away for operation."

That's what had been said ten minutes ago.

Chaos ruled the 2nd Frontier Division's base. Marines ran everywhere, some half-dressed. Vehicles loaded up with soldiers and driving out in convoys. The 212's current assignment, guarding the beacon's location, had been canceled, as had the 232's guard mission of the scientists' camp. They were getting new orders—orders that had them being deployed in defensible locations all over the colony.

The same chaos was disrupting their counterparts in the US Army.

It was a common misconception that the entirety of humanity's military power was composed of the Systems Alliance Navy. It was true that the Alliance had trimmed out obsolete ground-based armies, wet navies, and air forces from its service at its conception, leaving only the Marines and a space navy to project force, but the nations that the Alliance was comprised of held onto vestiges of their military might.

The United States, Russia, European Union, China, and South American Union maintained standing militaries, though trimmed back, to make use of however they saw fit. The Systems Alliance Navy eclipsed all of these forces combined, but that didn't mean they didn't exist.

Primarily of American origin, Eden Prime's residents were watched over both by Systems Alliance marines and the United States Army. It was the Army that coordinated the colony's defense, and the commanding officer of the US Army on Eden Prime was Lieutenant Colonel Shepard.

When the civilian government sent an inquiry about the activity, rumors were flying that the officer in command of the colony's defense, Shepard, described some kind of imminent threat and prescribed mass evacuations from the area around the dig site and the beacon, which included the scientists who were studying it.

It wasn't a question of whether or not something was going down. It was about when it was going to happen, and what it was going to be.

Chief Williams checked the seals on her helmet and the firing mechanism on her assault rifle. She had prepared everything. She rolled out of the armory in a crowd of combat ready soldiers and headed over the parade ground to the designated briefing point of her unit.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams?"

That voice sounded familiar. The same voice cracked out over the emergency military broadcast net thirty minutes ago and announced the colony wide mobilization. The same voice dedicated the memorial on Elysium live on the extranet. That voice belonged to a living legend.

The Chief stopped and turned on the spot, locking into a salute. "Lieutenant Colonel Shepard!"

Surprisingly, full body armor covered the Colonel, heavy plated and mottled green in color. Several types of weapons were secured at the hard points on her back and hips. They said she led from the front, but this was ridiculous. The Colonel didn't even have an entourage of meat shields, let alone the officer staff necessary to coordinate the mobilization.

"At ease Chief," ordered Shepard.

Williams complied. She had no idea what the Colonel wanted with her specifically.

"You wouldn't know where I could find Ops Chief Jacob Taylor by any chance, would you?" Shepard asked. "He's with the 232."

She knew who Shepard was talking about. Ex-Corsair, lots of muscles, and generally good company, she'd met the marine a few times before. "He was on patrol before the mobilization, I think, Colonel," she answered. "He could be anywhere now."

There was no way the Colonel singled Williams out just to ask after a Marine.

"Oh," Shepard said, as if remembering the reason she was there. "I need you—your unit, I mean, for a uh... a special operation."

The Chief still had no idea what the Colonel wanted with her specifically. Ashley Williams was a black sheep—granddaughter of the traitor that surrendered at Shanxi. Ranking officers held it as tradition to pretend she didn't exist. "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?"

Shepard pulled back at the request, as if she hadn't expected it to be necessary. "Uh," she said. "Yeah. Sure."

"I'm a Williams," she said. "I don't get randomly picked to be in special operations by Alliance heroes. I've never even met you or even seen you in person before. Don't take this the wrong way—I'll do anything you need me to do—but I'm all kinds of suspicious right now, Colonel."

The Colonel checked around as if expecting someone to be eavesdropping. In the chaos she'd created in the last half hour though, no one had the time to even look in their direction. "All right," Shepard said, leveling with Williams as if she were a close friend. "Do you want a story that sounds true, or an answer that doesn't make sense?"

If the Chief wasn't suspicious before, she was suspicious now. "You sure you want to give me a choice?" she asked.

"Yeah. Pretty sure," the Colonel replied.

Well. If Shepard decided to treat her like an equal instead of a subordinate, Williams would play ball. "Fine," she said. "Give me both."

"All right," said Shepard. "I've got some illicit contacts. One's a close friend. He messaged me this morning that some people he knows are involved in something big that has to do with Eden Prime, and it's happening today. Something we're not going to like, probably something to do with that beacon the spooks are swarming around. I've seen your service history, Chief. You're someone people will look over, and you're reliable."

Williams frowned. The Colonel's delivery was unconvincing. "Was that the answer or the story?"

"Story," Shepard said sheepishly. "Best I could come up with on short notice."

"What's the answer?" The Chief was unsure she if she wanted to hear it.

Colonel Shepard took off her helmet, her expression unquestionably serious. "Ash," she said, "of all the people on this planet, you're the only one I can trust to cover my back. You're one of the bravest, most capable soldiers I've ever served with, and I look forward to finding all that out about you." She extended a hand.

The sincerity took Williams off guard. She didn't know how to react to Shepard's words—it was as if the Colonel spoke to someone else. A distinguished war hero. A close friend.

"Just shake the damn hand Chief," Shepard barked.

Williams came to a decision. "What the hell," she said, shaking the Colonel's hand. "Why not."


	4. Main Screen Turn On

"Thrusters... check," Joker said. "Navigation... check. Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift... just under fifteen hundred K."

"Fifteen hundred is good," stated Nihlus, impressed. The Spectre never offered praise or criticism, but he made an exception this once. Few ace Turian pilots would be able to compare with the human. He turned and stalked away. "Your captain will be pleased."

Joker hated that guy, and when the Turian left, he said as much.

Lieutenant Alenko gave Joker a mystified glance. "Nihlus gave you a compliment… so you hate him," he said.

"You remember to zip up your jumpsuit after you go to the bathroom, That's good." replied Joker, irritation burning in his words. "I just jumped us halfway across the galaxy and hit a target the size of a pinhead. That's incredible!" He shook his head slightly, quiet once more. "Besides, he's a Spectre and I don't like having him on-board." He shrugged. "Call me paranoid."

The LT happily obliged him. "You're paranoid," he said. "The Council helped fund this project, they have every right to keep an eye on their investment." It was common sense to Alenko. Why couldn't it be to Joker?

"Yeah," said Joker, "and that is the official story." He'd been covered in official stories himself several times in the past, none of which expressed facts in any way. "Only an idiot believes the official story."

Shepard timed his response with a smile. "Official story says this doesn't make sense to me and that Nihlus could be doing better things with his time," he said.

Joker glanced over his shoulder. "You know something we don't Commander?"

"That information is on a need to know basis," said Lieutenant Alenko. "And I'm sure Shepard has good reasons for keeping it under wraps. It's simple."

"Hey," said Shepard. "Check this out. Captain Anderson in three. Two. One."

Right on cue, David Anderson's voice snapped over the comms. "Joker!" Status report!"

Joker hesitated before answering. "Just cleared the mass relay, Captain," he replied, glancing back at Shepard again. "Stealth systems engaged, everything… looks solid."

"Good. Find a comm buoy and link us into the network," said Anderson. "I want mission reports relayed back to the Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime."

Joker had executed the orders before Anderson finished giving them. "Neat trick Commander," he said, muting his microphone. "Mind giving up the secret?"

"Not just yet," said Shepard. He leaned past the pilot and switched the microphone back on. "Captain, meet in the communications room ASAP. Nihlus, you be there too."

"Actually, I was…" Anderson trailed off, realizing Shepard had cut through the request he didn't yet make. "He heard you," Anderson said, referring to Nihlus.

Shepard nodded at the LT and Joker."Gentlemen." He walked away, leaving everyone confused.

On the way to the comm room, Shepard stopped by Pressly, overhearing the tail end of an argument between him and Engineer Adams.

The Navigator cut the channel and saluted. "Congratulations Commander, looks like we've had a smooth run," he said. "Heading down to see the Captain?"

"Nihlus is just doing his job, Pressly," said Shepard. "Same as any of us." He smiled and walked right on by. Pressly turned to look after him, a puzzled expression on his face.

Up ahead, Chakwas and Corporal Jenkins were having a little chat.

"I grew up on Eden Prime, Doc," Jenkins was saying. "It's not the kind of place Spectres visit. There's something Nihlus isn't telling us about this mission."

Shepard stepped up beside the Corporal, laying a hand on his shoulder. He stood a full head taller than the younger Marine. "You're completely right about that," he said.

"What do you mean?" Jenkins asked, excited that Shepard spoke directly to him.

"Just do everything I say when I say it, and you'll be a hero," Shepard promised. "Don't, and you'll wind up dead."

"That seems a little binary, Commander," said Dr. Chakwas.

"Binary or not, Jenkins, you heard what I said." He released the Corporal. "Internalize it now."

The Corporal snapped off a nervous salute. "Yes sir."

Shepard returned it. "You were meant for great things, Corporal. Stick with me and we'll get you there in one piece." He dropped his hand and winked at them before heading into the communications room. He heard Chakwas say something about military bravado and chest pounding as the door closed.

Nihlus stood alone within.

"Ah, Commander Shepard," said Nihlus, turning around at Shepard's entrance. "I have to admit, you caught me off guard with your message to the Captain. Capable foresight on your part. But I wanted a chance to talk."

Shepard remembered this conversation well. Nihlus, playing cool, probing carefully, expecting to have months, years even, to get to know him.

"You want a chance to talk, Nihlus? Well, here it is. It might be our only chance to talk," said the Commander. "So what do you want to talk about?" he asked. "How Eden Prime isn't as safe as we'd like it to be? How I managed to survive my entire unit getting killed on Akuze? I'm Commander James Fucking Shepard. Ask me a question that means something."

Nihlus Kyrik's mandibles flexed in surprise. Nihlus prided himself on his command of language, but this time, he had nothing to say. To his credit though, he managed to pull his mask of indifference back together quickly.

"As you ask," Nihlus said, thoughtfully, churning over what Shepard had said. This human didn't fit in with who he had been observing for the past several hours. He had more confidence. More spirit. More Shepard. Nihlus looked him dead in the eye, a question in mind. "What changed you?"

Shepard grinned. "You did," he said. "When you looked at that list of names and put mine forward to the Council. I have no idea if you made the right choice, but I haven't survived this long by ignoring an opportunity when it comes my way."

Intrigued, Nihlus raised an eye-ridge. "What gave it away?" he asked, mandibles dropping in a smile.

"You behind over my shoulder every time I turn around," said Shepard. "And Anderson. The Alliance wouldn't have sent our former Spectre candidate on this mission if it was only about retrieving a Prothean beacon. He's here to make sure a Turian doesn't screw us over again."

Captain Anderson entered the room just then. "Sounds like both our secrets are out of the box," he said, looking from Nihlus to Shepard. "Nihlus told you about the beacon then?"

Nihlus chuckled. "I think he found out on his own," he said.

With all the stuff he made up, Shepard knew this one would be more important than the others. He'd thought about it a little bit beforehand though. He felt prepared. "Does the name Colonel Shepard sound familiar?" asked James.

Captain Anderson nodded. He knew Harper as well as he did James, and he knew the Alliance had stationed her on Eden Prime for the time being. It would have been easy for her to hint at the beacon's existence in communication between them.

"Harper Shepard was on that list right by you, actually," said Nihlus. "Both of you were uniquely qualified for Spectre candidacy, even above the others. It was quite the task picking only one of you. In the end, I felt your record of diplomacy sat better with the subtleness the Spectres are known for than your twin sister's… more straightforward nature."

"Whatever your sources," said Anderson, "I don't need to remind you that the last time humanity made a discovery like this beacon it jumped our technology forward two hundred years. But Eden Prime doesn't have the facilities for something like this. Only the Citadel has that capacity." He paused to let that sink in. "We need this, Shepard. The beacon and you."

" Humanity wants a larger role in shaping interstellar policy," said the Commander. "I know. The Spectres represent the power and authority of the Council, and if I get accepted, it'll show how far we've come. This has been on the board for a long time—you know that better than I do, Captain."

Anderson got the hint that Shepard understood more than he let on, but Joker interrupted before he could press the matter.

"Captain," said the pilot, his voice tense, "we've got a situation here."

The typically unruffled pilot's worry wasn't lost on Anderson. "What's wrong, Joker?"

"It's a transmission from Eden Prime, sir. You better see this."

"Then bring it up on screen."


	5. Lima Charlie

As Williams waited for the imminent attack, she thought about the Colonel. She had always found it interesting that two of the biggest names in the Alliance military were twins. Twins that had completely unrelated careers. The story was, supposedly, that their parents divorced over their service in the navy—dad wanted out, mom wanted to stay on. Then they split the kids, a move Chief Williams didn't understand. James went with Mr. Shepard to the ill-fated Mindoir colony, while Harper stayed with Mrs. Shepard and grew up as a spacer.

The Colonel pushed off of the ground and got the entire unit's attention. "Listen up," she said over the unit's communication channel, "because you had better get this clear as a fucking bell. In one mike, things are gonna get fucked up beyond belief. I want your commo front and center now so we can send a message of distress Lima Charlie to our guys in the air when it happens. Our communications will be out like a light afterward."

The Chief wondered why Shepard would even bother with the shaky cam ground footage when she had access to Eden Prime's communication network. If she was so sure an attack was incoming, why not summon the fleet now instead of waiting? Even if she had no evidence to back it up, the navy would respond at her say so. That's what being famous did for you.

There had to be an ulterior motive. If Shepard didn't have public recognition and hadn't done everything a CO can do to get people ready for combat without saying combat was coming up, Williams would have guessed she worked in tandem with whatever was coming.

It didn't make sense either way.

The Chief noticed it then.

Trails of fire raced down through the clouds, too many to count. They weren't meteors or debris from a satellite that had broken up. Debris doesn't slow down before landing. They were shock troops. Williams realized that their landing zones were focused on the military bases around the colony. Bases which had no troops in them due to Shepard's short-call mobilization. Several large, dark objects swooped down from the sky. They were ships.

Echoes of gunfire and explosions began calling out from all directions.

"Private Richards!" Williams called. "You heard the Colonel. Front and center!"

Richards, the Marine with the unit's high strength communications gear, rushed forward.

"Commo! You ready to transmit?" Shepard said.

"Yes ma'am, Colonel," he said, ignoring everything happening to keep his head pointed at Shepard.

"All right, start broadcasting!"

That's when it happened.

It felt like a migraine, except that migraines aren't punctuated with inhuman screeching. Williams felt as if the pain had a direction to it. She looked up, along with her fellow soldiers.

Descending in a burning black cloud coursing with red lightning, bigger than any ship she had ever seen before, loomed a dark, squid shaped dreadnought. A dull tone pulsed through the air in tune with the dreadnought's deceleration.

Shepard's description had been spot on.

"For anybody out there," said Shepard, "Eden Prime is under assault by the Geth." She had to shout to be heard over the wall of sound.

A drop pod blew in through the air and smashed into the ground at the base of their hill. Synthetic soldiers with flashlight heads poured out.

Williams and the other Marines of her unit were in an optimal location to take out the machines before they could deploy.

"Hold fire, do not give away our position!" the Colonel yelled. "Do not engage! Commo, get the Reaper in the picture."

The Marine transmitting his visuals shifted to look at the titanic ship that moved toward their position, as did everyone else.

Wait. Reaper?

"Since when does this thing have a name, Shepard?" Williams shouted.

"Dreadnought!" Shepard corrected. "Whatever! They're using a dreadnought of unknown origin. Immediate support would be appreciated sooner rather than later. Shepard out! Cut the feed."

"We've already been cut off, ma'am," said Richards, dropping back into heavy cover along with everyone else. "Signal interference."

Shepard crouched down in the grass amidst the soldiers. "Good," she said. "Now power off anything that doesn't help you stay undetected and listen close. This is the special operation us guys are going to pull off."


	6. Always Grasping For More

The transmission was different. But if there was any doubt left that Harper remembered everything James did, it vanished when she'd slipped up and called the Reaper a Reaper. Shepard left the meeting overwhelmingly positive. Not just because Harper would be right there with him through the days to come, either.

Ashley Williams. She wasn't dead.

On an intellectual level, Shepard knew that she would still be alive. He hadn't screwed up on Virmire. Kaiden was perfectly intact when he'd seen him earlier. Wrex was out there right now, at this moment, pursuing a bounty on someone's head. Even Kirahe, Mr. Hold The Line himself, was probably giving a speech to a huddled mass of Special Tasks Group operatives as he thought about it. There was no reason why it should be any different for Gunnery Chief Williams.

But when he heard her voice again, it was fucking different. He'd try to figure out why later.

Before, this had been a dream. A fantasy. Do everything right, save the galaxy—easy, right? Now, it was serious business. He would not screw up again. James doubted the universe handed out third chances.

Shepard entered the cargo bay and approached Nihlus, who was checking over a heavily modified shotgun. They were only several minutes out from arriving at the colony. He didn't have much time to work with.

Beside the Spectre and Shepard, the only person in the bay was the quartermaster, and he was sequestered in the corner of the large space checking over their weapons to ensure they were one-hundred percent functional. The area seemed emptier than it should be. The familiar sleek shape of the Mako was right where it should be, but Garrus wasn't on top of the thing screwing around with the main cannon.

Wrex and Williams' absence was even more conspicuous. The two of them argued constantly. They debated. They bickered. And they did so at volume. On the Normandy SR1, the crew kept track of their proceedings with fevered interest. The fascination with argument soon spread to other venues. Officer Vakarian versus Tali'Zorah. Lieutenant Alenko versus Joker. Shepard versus Shepard. Adams versus Pressly. And all possible permutations thereof. Urdnot Wrex versus Chief Williams remained by far the most popular. Their deaths crippled morale.

Even so, time and victory restored the crew to its rowdy, blood-thirsty state. Arguing remained the unofficial official spectator sport of all those serving onboard the Normandy, all the way until it exploded.

Shepard shook the memory from his mind. He needed to focus on making stories happen, not reminiscing about them. As it stood, Shepard and Nihlus were the only people onboard who had been geared for a ground operation when the transmission came in from Eden Prime. Corporal Jenkins and Lieutenant Alenko were suiting up. That gave Shepard a window of opportunity to speak with the Spectre alone.

Nihlus noticed the Commander before he had stepped off the elevator, but he didn't acknowledge his presence until he got closer. "Commander Shepard," said the Turian, turning to get a clear line of sight over his cowl. He already knew what the human planned to ask. "I already told you. In another situation, I would embrace the opportunity to operate in tandem with you, just the two of us. I wouldn't be reviewing your candidacy if you couldn't keep up." He dipped his head. "But you have men to lead, Shepard. The beacon is our number one priority. Time is critical, and I move faster on my own. Watching over less experienced soldiers will only slow me down."

Shepard talked with Nihlus after they'd viewed the transmission. James wanted to operate with everyone as a cohesive unit. Nihlus protested.

No one had fought the Geth in hundreds of years, and husks could be on the ground. The situation was dangerous for anyone who had never seen them in person before, even a Spectre like Nihlus. And then there was Saren Arterius. Though Shepard had already begun to change the course of history, not enough time had passed for major differences to manifest. If he let Nihlus go alone, even with superior intel and a new drop site, the Spectre had an unacceptably high chance of repeating the same deadly run-in with his former mentor.

Shepard spoke with the same conviction that swayed ruthless killers to back down and skeptics to doubt their own opinions. "You chose me for a reason," he stated, watching the Turian's face closely. Nihlus's flowing white facial markings were stark against his rust colored skin. "If you really believe I can ever be your equal, you need to trust me. You're wasting both our times if you can't do that," he said.

The Spectre cocked his head to the side, hesitant. "What are you getting at, Shepard?"

"Did you see that ship?" he asked. "Red lightning was coming off that thing. I can't explain it," he lied, "but I know that's not Geth technology. Nothing we know could have built something that big, let alone make it fly in atmosphere. We can't predict what's going to be down." He shook his head. "You're right. The beacon is our top priority. It's important enough that the Geth came out from behind the Perseus Veil for the first time in hundreds of years to get it. We can't afford to take risks, Nihlus, not even calculated ones. We need to work as a team."

Nihlus examined James, weighting everything he knew about the man against his own knowledge. All of the potential he saw in humanity seemed to radiate out from the human. Driven to excel, but never content with what achievements they made. An endless grasping for more, and the brazen self-assurance to make it happen. "We do it your way," Nihlus conceded. "This time." It was difficult to back down from a decision already made, but part of being a Spectre was seeing through everything. Even yourself. "I expect your men to be quick on their feet," he added.

Shepard smiled. "They're Marines," he said. "It's part of the job."

* * *

><p>Thanks for the reviews. I wasn't sure what the reaction would be, but I'm glad someone's enjoying it. The stuff I'm putting up is pretty raw, but I'll make revisions for readability and sensibility as I go along. I noticed I had a habit of assuming things explained themselves, hence the bare feeling the story has in the first few chapters. I'll be going back at some point in the future and fleshing it out to meet my newer standards.<p> 


	7. Change Of Plan

Private Richards' radio clicked on and off. He had a contact.

They'd gone to ground after they relayed the situation. Geth drones combed the area, but Williams' unit managed to stay undetected. Shepard proved helpful there. She seemed to know exactly where the synthetics wouldn't look too closely. The Colonel was a Green Beret, if Williams remembered correctly.

"Shepard," the Chief whispered. "Contact, south."

Shepard nodded and slowly pulled away from her shooting position. They were set up all along the hill, observing all approaches for unusual activity. After the attack started, Williams and the squad she commanded loyally hung from every word Shepard offered. The shadow of the squid dreadnought, touched down a klick away, stretched over their position.

Wordlessly, both of them crept through the foliage to join Richards, staying far back and low to the ground so they wouldn't be spotted. The rest of the squad joined them shortly thereafter, rifles at the ready, all crouched low amidst the shadowy grass and underbrush.

A open-air freight tram rushed toward the station, loaded with Geth troopers. Williams magnified her view and spotted one figure stood apart from the crowd. A Turian.

"I've got eyes on the Spectre," said Williams in a low voice. They were on radio silence. They even powered down their hardsuit shields and weapons—anything that could eke out an energy signature could have alerted the Geth or the Spectre to their presence.

Corporal Methuselah, Williams' second, frowned in disbelief as too got eyes on the mark. "They're just… ignoring him," he said. "He's working with the Geth?"

"You think so, Corporal?" whispered another Marine, Private North. "You should write a book. Title it, 'Shit That's Fucking Obvious'." North looked over at Williams. "Chief. Back car. They've got the beacon with them."

Sure enough, the Prothean Beacon was tied down on the last car of the train.

"Sierra Tango Foxtrot Uniform," Shepard growled. Silence prevailed. "Williams? Shooters?"

They'd planned this in advance. The Chief singled out two of her Marines, the ones with the best long range marksmanship. "Wagner. Gomez. With me," she said. "Everyone else, hold position. And Bhatia, make sure no one does anything too stupid."

The soldiers in question moved forward, while Serviceman Bhatia, the unit's medic, watched North and Methuselah like a hawk.

"Shepard," Williams intoned.

The Colonel motioned for them to follow her, and they set up in the position they'd decided on earlier. It had a perfect view of the rear cargo storage area of the station. Williams, her Marines, and Shepard all crawled into ideal sniper positions and waited, weapons out but not armed.

Soon after they'd moved into position, a group of towering Geth soldiers moved into sight. They shifted boxes and equipment out of the way, making room for another team of synthetics which set the beacon upright at the edge of the platform.

That's when the silver Turian stepped out onto the platform. With a brief gesture, he ordered the synthetics away. The Geth obeyed, leaving him alone.

He looked at the beacon for a moment, and then walked toward it.

When he came within close proximity, it flashed with sickening green light and lifted him in the air. He floated there for several seconds as the beacon hummed with power before it set him down again.

The beacon took a lot out of him. He nearly collapsed. Instead though, he stumbled away a few steps and caught himself on the platform's guard rail, clutching to it to prevent himself from losing his balance.

He was completely exposed.

They'd gone over the plan in great detail. A Spectre with all his top-of-the-line equipment was not a soft target, and Shepard had told them this one was a biotic. That meant he'd be even tougher. If he even got the slightest hint of their presence, they wouldn't be able to take him out.

A single shot from a high powered rifle would barely punch through the reflexive biotic barrier he was sure to be shielded with. It would take a second to weaken his primary shields, and a third to break through to his secondary shield package. Only a fourth shot delivered directly to the Spectre's head, where his secondary shielding was weakest, had a chance of getting through.

Wagner, Gomez, Williams, and Shepard all took aim. If any one of them missed, the Turian would throw up extra biotic shielding and enough spatial interference to make hitting him again next to impossible while he got to cover and summoned the Geth for assistance.

Shepard had planned on the mark being distracted by the beacon. Williams didn't know how Shepard knew the Turian was going to use it, but at this point, it didn't matter. The Colonel had been right about everything so far. Questions could wait.

"Charge rifles," Shepard breathed.

Williams switched her rifle on. Its charge built quickly. It was ready to fire in half of a second. Gomez and Wagner readied their own weapons at the same time.

The Chief's crosshairs centered on the Turian's head.

"On my mark," said Shepard.

Despite Shepard's actions over the last several hours, people were dying. People with Friends. Families. People Ashley knew.

"Three."

Somehow, Williams knew this alien bastard was responsible for all of it.

"Two."

Ashley's finger tightened around the trigger.

" O—oh God fucking dammit, hold fire," Shepard called, extreme rage and irritation boiling in her voice.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why, seeing as what was happening right in front of them.

The Colonel quickly regained her cool. "The target still doesn't know we're here. Keep on him," she ordered. "Fire only on my say so. And fuck you James," Shepard growled to nobody in particular. "My way's better."

* * *

><p>I made some notable changes to chapter 3. They're not life changing, but I think it's worth heading back if you read chapter 3 before 224/11. Some details introduced there will come up again later.


	8. Sounds Awesome

"They're using the colony's rail system to move the beacon toward the dreadnought," said Nihlus, twisting a set of commands into his omni-tool. "The Geth must not be keen on ferrying it by air—too much triple A, too risky if it's their objective here. Good call dropping between the ship and the dig site, Shepard. We can cut them off at a station only… a block away."

Nihlus used an HMOT AD5, an omni-tool designed specifically for and exclusively available to Spectres. To get the AD5, you had to fill out sixteen separate pieces of paperwork, pay an upfront manufacturing fee of two-hundred and fifty-thousand credits, and wait two to three weeks while the bureaucracy cranked through the request. After that time, your custom HMOT AD5 would be available for pickup from the C-SEC requisitions office on the Presidium—unless you otherwise specified a location for delivery.

Spectre Kryik obtained every other piece of gear in his personal load out through a similar process. It you summed up the price of Nihlus's equipment, from the boots on his feet to the grenades on his belt, the total cost would exceed that of a brand new, combat equipped Alliance F-76 Eagle interceptor.

Commander James Shepard knew this because that's how much his own Spectre designed gear had cost him. Gear which he now missed. While Shepard's equipment was far from standard Alliance issue, it did not compare to the Spectre's.

The Marines and Spectre moved out through the abandoned suburbs toward the rail station. The alien dreadnought loomed high behind them. They'd stumbled upon a few Geth patrols so far, all of which they jammed and destroyed without too much difficulty. Thankfully, the streets were empty of both wreckage and bodies. Corporal Jenkins, a native, would have been hit hard by civilian casualties. It appeared as if the area had been evacuated before the attack commenced something Shepard suspected his sister orchestrated.

They made slow but consistent progress.

Despite being at a significant tech disadvantage, Lieutenant Alenko managed to cut into Eden Prime's rail transportation network just few minutes after Nihlus had. Possibly because he had Alliance military override codes. He squinted through his visor to look at a video feed. "Commander," he said, looking at Shepard, "there's something else on the train. Get a look at this."

Shepard nodded at Alenko and signaled the team into cover, their Turian cautiously bringing up the tail. It satisfied the Commander that Kaiden reported to him rather than Nihlus. He wasn't surprised though. Alenko had never been trouble before.

Shepard linked with the Lieutenant's omni-tool and watched the footage for himself. A train sped by a rail-side observation camera, packed with Geth. "I see it." Shepard passed the video along to Jenkins and Nihlus. "Keep an eye on the leading car. Watch at half speed."

Corporal Jenkins paused the video on his omni-tool to get a better look at what was happening. "A Turian?" he asked, frowning at the distinctly non-synthetic figure standing at the front of the train, flanked by Geth troopers. "What's he doing working with the Geth?"

"A better question would be who he is," Alenko replied, attempting to magnify the image of the silver Turian and failing.

Nihlus stared at the image on his omni-tool in disbelief, mandibles dropping. "Saren."

The Marines turned to the Spectre.

"Saren Arterius?" said Shepard, knowing the answer. "He brought you into the Spectres, didn't he Nihlus?"

"I don't understand. Why is he here?" Nihlus asked. "The Council didn't mention…." He looked closer at the image, noting how his mentor faced the Geth at his side, as if speaking to it. "No."

Alenko's expression was grave. "It looks like the Geth have help, sir."

"Not Saren," said Nihlus, shaking his head. "You don't know him. He wouldn't be a part of this."

Jenkins wasn't happy. "Are you telling your friend is helping a bunch of alien robots murder my friends and family?" he said. "Bullshit. That's bullshit. Tell me we're putting this Saren guy down, Shepard."

Lieutenant Alenko put a hand on the Corporal's shoulder. "Jenkins, cool off. You're not in charge here. Commander Shepard is."

Shepard looked down at the inexperienced Marine. "Listen to the LT. I'll tell you whatever's best for the mission, Corporal, whether or not it's in line with your righteous anger," said Shepard, emphasizing Jenkins' rank.

The Corporal hesitated, struggling with whether he would press the issue or not. "I… yes sir, Commander," Jenkins said, backing down. Military expedience aside, Shepard's opinion mattered to him a great deal. He'd go with whatever the Commander came up with.

Shepard turned to Nihlus, who was still searching the video for something, anything to show that Saren wasn't linked with the Geth. "Nihlus," said Shepard. "You know Saren better than anybody. How do you want to play this?"

The Spectre forced himself to shut off his omni-tool. A mix of betrayal, confusion, and anger flashed across his face before they disappeared in a single neutral expression. "We need to discover why he's gone rogue," he stated, his words calm. "Saren isn't irrational. Relentlessly pragmatic, yes. He doesn't care who hates him, but he does care about his integrity. If we corner him, cut off his options, he'll speak with us."

"Sounds like we've got a train to catch, Commander," said Alenko.

Shepard signaled them forward. "Let's move."

They made good time to the station, avoiding the odd Geth that strayed across their path. Engaging now would give away their position.

Suddenly, a massive roar filled the air. They turned around to see the dark dreadnought take off and move skyward.

"They don't even have the beacon yet," said Jenkins, confused.

"The Geth have dozens of dropships," Alenko pointed out. "They can meet up with the ship in orbit."

Nihlus understood. "This station is in the middle of Eden Prime. The dreadnought isn't retreating, it's clearing the blast radius—Saren is going to destroy the entire colony."

"Not while he's still in it," Shepard said.

The Spectre raised his omni-tool. "Shutting down the rail system will put him in our reach."

"With all due respect Nihlus," Lieutenant Alenko interrupted, "the system register says the train is stopping at this station already. Shutting it down will only let Saren know we're here."

Jenkins pointed at the raised tracks that led into the station. "Train's coming in," he said. "Shouldn't we get out of sight?"

The group slid beneath the elevated station as the cargo train came in.

Crouching behind a shipping container, Lieutenant Alenko glanced upward at the underbelly of the station. "There's at least a company's worth of Geth on that train," he said. "That's a lot of firepower. How are we supposed to corner Saren?"

"A diversion," said Nihlus, extracting a marble sized pellet from a compartment on his belt. "I believe Corporal Jenkins will approve of this."

Jenkins blinked. "What is that thing?"

"If that's what I think it is," said Alenko, "then let me ask that you overlook my concerns about the Geth."

Shepard suppressed a grin. "I've got a plan," he said. "Here's what we're going to do." He told everyone what he had in mind. "Any questions?"

"Crystal clear, Commander," Alenko said.

"Subtle, yet bold," agreed Nihlus, nodding.

Jenkins cracked his knuckles. "Sounds awesome."


	9. My Way's Better

Death. Destruction. Terror.

The true fate of the Protheans.

Saren gripped the railing. It was too much information to process.

In their dying moments, they had used the conduit they built on Illos to sabotage the Reapers' return, a failed attempt to stop the cycle of destruction. It would be through their conduit that Saren would appease the old machines and secure a place for organic civilization in the dark years to come.

A prickling sensation danced across the back of the Spectre's neck. His subconscious pulled together details he hadn't noticed before. His instincts told him he was in danger.

The Geth hadn't cleared the area.

A synthetic voice droned through his comm implant as the reports of gunshots and energy discharges reached his ears. "Speaker-Saren," it said. "Inner perimeter platforms have been engaged by two human Alliance Marines utilizing nonstandard engagement protocol."

Saren growled. The synthetics were advanced, yet limited. Primitive. "Remove them," he ordered. He still wasn't quite able to stand on his own. "Send the kill group."

" Roaming hunter platforms are being allocated to purge," the Geth confirmed. "Chance of successful elimination estimated at 99% within next thirty seconds."

With a surge of deafening thunder and a flash of light, the ground heaved underfoot, throwing Saren away from the railing. A ball of expanding fire rose from within the perimeter walling of the station. Saren heaved himself up off the ground, charged his biotic barriers, and readied his handgun. "Report, now," Saren yelled.

"Roaming hunter platforms defunct. Central reserve force has sustained significant damage," stated the Geth. "Chance of successful elimination: 97%."

Another enormous blast rocked the train station. Saren barely managed to maintain his footing. Nothing short of a shuttle packed with high explosives could have caused a blast that massive. Unless... He remembered a report he had read on the concept of a miniaturized Hydrogen bomb. A fusion grenade. The concept was so impractical and mechanically unworkable that he had discarded it out of hand.

"Re-estimated odds of successful purge hold at 3 to 1, against," said the Geth. "Evaluating response… consensus achieved. Speaker-Saren, a retrieval vessel is being moved to your location. It will arrive within five minutes. All remaining platforms in your vicinity have been allocated to delaying hostile advance."

He knew the humans responded better than he had predicted to the sudden Geth attack, but Saren had walked right into an ambush. Somehow, someway, they knew exactly what he was going to do before he did it. There must have been an informant. Had he misjudged Matriarch Benezia?

"Saren!"

He recognized that voice.

Saren turned to see Spectre Kyrik standing alongside Commander Shepard, the human being evaluated for service in the Spectres. Both had weapons drawn and trained on him.

So Nihlus was the one evaluating Shepard. And they were both here.

"You betrayed the Council," said Nihlus, circling to the left, toward the beacon, "you betrayed your species, and you betrayed me. All in secret." His voice was absolutely calm.

"Nihlus," said Saren, forcing anger back down into his chest, "you and your lackey have no idea what you're interfering with." Nihlus was Saren's friend—possibly his only friend—but he would kill him in an instant when he needed to.

The human said nothing.

Kyrik tilted his head mockingly. "Then enlighten me."

Saren glanced between Shepard and Nihlus. Shepard wouldn't stand a chance. Nihlus though, he would be tricky. Either one of them could get killed if he chose now to attack. He needed to get his guard down. "Have you ever wondered what happened to the Protheans?" he asked. "Or the civilizations that came before them? They were wiped out. All of them. For millions of years, life has flourished only to be extinguished at its apex."

"What does that have to do with anything you've done?" Nihlus asked.

Shepard remained silent.

"Surely you witnessed the ship that left for orbit mere minutes ago. What if I told you it wasn't a ship at all, but a sentient machine? A Reaper of life; older than the Protheans, older than life on Pavalen. Perhaps even older than the stars. They built the mass relays. They built the Citadel. There are thousands of Reapers. Hundreds of thousands even, waiting on the verges of space. They have slept for millennia, but they will awake soon."

"Listen to what you're saying," said Nihlus. "This is insane."

Shepard seemed determined not to utter a word.

"Insane?" Saren asked. "I wish. The Reapers are returning to wipe the galaxy clean of life once again. Know this. I choose to work with them on behalf of organic life everywhere. Reapers are machines – they think like machines. I am proving our worth to them. I am showing them we are a tool, a useful tool. In doing so I will save more lives than have ever existed. The Reapers will not destroy what is helpful to them. I am guaranteeing a place for us at their side."

Suddenly, Commander Shepard joined in with the conversation. "The Reapers have been doing this for millions of years. You said it yourself," he shouted, taking a step forward. "Do you honestly think you're the first person who ever existed who aligned himself with them?"

Nihlus looked sideways as Shepard, surprised at the conviction in the human's voice. It was like he really believed Saren's story.

"You would take me to be that foolish?" said Saren, spitefully facing the human. "Of course I'm not the first. But this time, the Reapers are in need of assistance – the Protheans sabotaged their return. If an organic heralds in their conquest, they must come to acknowledge our worth."

"For all your grandiloquence, you're still not thinking big enough Saren," Shepard replied. "Millions of years is a long time. Can you convince yourself that this is the first time the Reapers had a little bit of trouble getting back to the galaxy? That it's the first time an organic helped them out? I don't know about you, but I don't see many millions of years old space faring civilizations out there. The Reapers are using you. Sovereign is using you. Have you looked in the mirror lately, Saren?" he asked, sounding disappointed. "You've got metal hydraulics and circuitry attached to your mandibles. Your eyes are glowing blue. Fucking tubes are wired into your internal organs. You're indoctrinated, Saren. Your Reaper pal never trusted you. It's been lying to you since you set foot on it."

"By the Spirits Shepard," said Nihlus, baffled by what the Commander was saying, "what are you talking about?"

Saren stepped back. "How did you – no, you're lying somehow," he said, trying to rationalize. "Sovereign needs me! You have no idea what you're talking about – couldn't have any idea of what you're talking about. You're only a human."

"You let fear compromise who you are," Shepard pressed. "You're more concerned with proving your value to a machine than serving the people who trusted you to protect them. People like you are the reason the Reapers always win."

Saren scowled. "And people like you are the reason there's never anyone left!" he roared.

Nihlus shook his head, amazed at what was happening. "You have no proof. No evidence! This is a delusion, both of you."

"All of the proof you want is right there, in that beacon!" Saren shouted, pointing at it. "Everything I have said will make sense should you use it!"

"Then let the Council use it," Nihlus reasoned. "Let it make sense to them. Come back with us." He lowered his weapon and looked him in the eye, imploring.

But fury blinded the Spectre. As soon as his rifle was no longer pointing at him, Saren grabbed Nihlus in a biotic hold and flung him at the beacon. Green power snagged the Spectre and held him in the air, paralyzed. It would keep his friend occupied long enough to finish off Shepard – an infinitum of lives yet lived were at stake. He couldn't afford to make an error now.

Saren whipped his weapon up and fired at the human that knew so much yet understood so little. Shepard, however, dodged to the side behind a crate. He pursued, stepping sideways himself as he picked a grenade from his harness and prepared to lift the crate into the air with his biotics and throw up a barrier.

A wave of blue flared up around Saren, and he stumbled to a halt.

His pistol clattered to the ground uselessly, followed a moment after by the grenade.

A chorus of echoing gunshots followed a second after, coming from a hill in the distance.

Saren fell to a knee and looked down. Blue blood leaked out from a puncture in the rubbery material that covered the area around his neck and the inside of his cowl. His suit tightened around the injury, putting pressure on the wound.

The Prothean beacon exploded then, knocking Nihlus away. He didn't move from where he landed.

"I… I was wrong," Saren realized, seeing the limp body of his friend. He sank to the ground.

Shepard peeked out from his cover, weapon at the ready. When he saw that the enemy posed no threat, he threw it to the side and rushed toward Saren, medigel at the ready. The Commander wasn't concerned about Nihlus—the Turian was as tough as Shepard, and he'd had no trouble surviving the beacon.

Taking a bullet to the throat was a bit worse. Sourly, Commander Shepard knew he was lucky that Saren didn't have his head taken completely off by the sniper. He'd known his sister Beck was planning something like this, but with no way to predict what it would be, he'd had no way to avoid it. A serious but potentially not life threatening shot to the throat was Beck Shepard's way of saying, "Hey James, I don't agree with what you're doing, so I'll meet you halfway you little bastard."

Shepard pushed thoughts of his sister aside. "Saren," he said, kneeling by the fallen Turian and throwing medigel at the wound as if it would make it go away, "you still with me here?"

Shepard was perhaps the worst medic you could hope for in a high pressure situation. He would have called for Lieutenant Alenko and Corporal Jenkins, but they were tied up with the remaining Geth.

Saren coughed up an unsightly amount of azure blood and strained to look at the human fighting to preserve his life for just a few more seconds. "This is Saren," he growled into his comm. "All Geth are to withdraw to the fallback point. Cease all combat operations."

The Geth replied instantly. "Speaker-Saren, your order would result in a loss of platforms upwards of-"

"I speak for Sovereign," he stated, mustering as much authority as he could. "Do as I say."

They hesitated for a moment before acknowledging. Saren cut the signal after.

Lieutenant Alenko's voice came over Shepard's comms. "Shepard, Nihlus, the Geth are pulling back."

"I read you," said Shepard. "Saren and Nihlus are both down, but Nihlus is stable. I could use some medical expertise here ASAP, Alenko."

"The station's too damaged to come straight back," the LT replied. "We're going to circle around and meet you at the beacon. We'll be there in a few minutes." Alenko broke contact.

Saren narrowed his eyes at Commander Shepard, who by now was covered in the Turian's blood. "How did you know, human?" he asked. The words were a struggle. "Benezia's been indoctrinated. She couldn't have had a change of heart."

James looked down at the dying Turian. "You want a story that sounds true?" he asked. "Or an answer that doesn't make sense?"

Saren grimaced. "I've no time for stories. That scratch you're fretting over is nothing. The bullet ricocheted at least two times inside my chest. I can feel it."

"Okay. I'm from the future," Shepard admitted lamely.

"Really?" Saren said, willing to believe anything. At this point, it didn't really make a difference. "What happened the first time around?"

The Commander gave up on treating the injuries and just sat by him. "Your attack went a lot better. You killed Nihlus and made a clean getaway. But I used the beacon, and stopped you from destroying the colony. I went to testify to the Council."

"I imagine I would have been furious," Saren said. He took a deep, rattling breath. "Probably would have paid off every thug and assassin on the Citadel to eliminate you."

Shepard shrugged. "I'm made of tougher stuff than that, Saren. You underestimated me."

Saren laid back. Staying conscious was an effort. "I didn't leave any evidence," he predicted. "The beacon probably exploded when you used it, just like it did for Nihlus. Tell me the Council didn't admit dreams as evidence when you testified."

"They thought I was insane," said Shepard.

"I find that particularly amusing. Did you prove I'd gone rogue?"

"The Geth don't exactly have a secure network," Shepard explained. "A Quarian ripped an audio file off of a Geth somewhere of you talking with Benezia about the attack."

Saren gave a sharp smile. "One of my main concerns working with the Geth," he admitted. "How exactly did my plan work out then? I assume you found out about-"

"The Krogan breeding facility on Virmire? Yeah. You started making an army of Rachni too, actually. On Noveria. You needed them to get the location of the mass relay leading to Illos."

"Did I succeed then?" said Saren. "When I went for the Citadel?"

"You stopped yourself," Shepard told him. "You realized what you were doing was wrong. You committed suicide when the indoctrination wouldn't let you turn against Sovereign. We killed it after." He paused. "A lot of people died."

"But you still lost in the end," finished Saren, closing his eyes. "To the Reapers."

The Commander nodded. "That's why I came back."

Saren thought about this. "I thought humanity needed to learn its place," he said weakly. "Maybe I needed to learn my own." He opened his eyes again, slowly. "You will warn the Council about the Reapers, won't you?"

"They're not going to listen," Shepard said.

"They won't," Saren agreed regretfully, "but tell them anyway." He let out a long breath, murmuring, "Tell them I sent you."

"I can do that," Shepard replied.

It was quiet. No gunfire. No explosions. No strained breathing.

Shepard leaned over and closed Saren's eyes with a hand. He watched the body for a moment, and then stood to go check on Nihlus. Alenko and Jenkins arrived shortly thereafter.


	10. Shepards Of The World, Unite

"James," grunted Colonel Shepard.

Commander Shepard gave a pointed smile. "Beck."

The Shepards glared at each other.

Williams' Marines and the Commander's fire team watched their respective Shepards uncertainly. Their helmets were off (for the most part) and their guard was lowered. After the Geth's sudden retreat that left most of the synthetics destroyed, Eden Prime had gotten really quiet really fast. That's when the two groups of soldiers met up on a grassy field by the train station.

Alenko and Jenkins carefully laid Nihlus on the ground. The Turian was in some kind of coma as far as the Lieutenant could tell. Something to do with the beacon. The Normandy was en route, but it would take a few minutes to arrive.

"Shepard?" asked Kaiden.

Both Commander and Colonel turned their glares onto the LT. "What?" they both said in unison.

"Um… Never mind."

"Wait," said Jenkins, recognition in his eye. He took an excited step forward. "You're Colonel Beck Shepard, right?"

"You've got that right Corporal," said Beck. She took careful note of his rampant enthusiasm. Her brother James had complained often about the death of one of his Marines on Eden Prime – a man, he said, who had been eager to prove himself and died before he accomplished anything. Beck recognized the Marine from a corpse she once knew. "You must be Richard Jenkins," she said, smirking.

The Corporal, colored pink that someone like the Colonel would know him by name, had difficulty replying.

"The Colonel Shepard?" Alenko asked, incredulous. "As in Shepard's twin sister Shepard?"

The Colonel spread her hands apologetically.

Commander Shepard ran his hands over his face. "I guess introductions are in order," he said with a sigh. "I'm Commander James Shepard," he said, pointing to himself. He pointed to Alenko. "This is Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko. And this," he finished, indicating Jenkins, "is Corporal Richard Jenkins. The Turian on the ground is a Spectre. Nihlus Kryik." The awkwardness of running into his sister had been avoided the first time around. By merit of being exposed to the beacon, he was thoroughly unconscious. He had woken up on the Normandy to the delightful little surprise that his sister now served on the same frigate he did.

Beck was unenthusiastic. "Hi. I'm Beck," she said flatly. "And… I'm pretty sure my guys can handle introducing themselves."

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, 2nd Frontier Division" said a female Marine in white armor, snapping off a salute. She'd never run into a situation where two separate groups of soldiers stopped to introduce themselves to one another unless they were merging into one unit, but if that's what Colonel Shepard wanted to do, then that's what Colonel Shepard wanted to do.

Howard Wagner, Icarus North, John Methuselah, Nirali Bhatia, Sarah Gomez, and Atticus Richards followed suit in introductions.

"Now we're a big fucking happy family," said Beck cheerfully. "Williams," she continued, turning, "on a scale of seven to eight, how much do you want to serve on an experimental Alliance stealth frigate and roam the galaxy instead of rotting in a colonial garrison?"

"Uh," said Williams. "Eight?" The Chief wasn't sure whether to take that as an offer or an insult.

"Didya hear that James?" Beck asked. "The woman said eight."

James Shepard winced. If he could have traded places with Nihlus, he would have. As much as he wanted Ashley on the crew, he couldn't exactly single her out from her Marines. It would have been a lot easier if the Geth had wiped out her entire unit—not that he would have preferred that outcome. "Listen guys," he said, "I'm going to be tracking down whoever's responsible for this attack, and I'm going to need some help to do it. You were all damn helpful back there." Except for Saren being dead. If Shepard had another minute with their old nemesis, he might have talked him down. They would have had another ally against the Reapers. "What I'm saying is," he continued, "if you want to be a part of this, I'll make it happen. Now it's not going to be safe. This will be a high profile, extremely dangerous assignment. Saying yes might very well mean your death. Think it over."

"Excuse me, Commander," said Alenko, pulling Shepard aside so that he could speak with him in private. "You can't offer these soldiers a position on the Normandy," he stated. "You don't have the authority to transfer them out of their division, and if you did, you're not in charge of the ship. You can't put them on the crew roster. You're not Captain Anderson."

"Look. I know, Lieutenant," James whispered. "This is as painful for me as it is for you. Just go along with it."

Alenko thought about arguing for a moment, but let it go. The Commander did seem more on edge than usual. He'd try to get answers later.

James turned to watch the group of Marines. "Any takers?" he asked anxiously.

Williams considered the offer. None of it made sense, like everything else that had happened today. Why was it that Beck's brother, a famous Commander who knew absolutely zero about Williams, was now offering her unit a chance to take part in some secret Spectre related mission? The whole thing was circumspect. But her career in the Marines wasn't getting any better with her family's reputation, and Ashley knew she'd regret refusing to take part in what could be the stupidest thing she had ever done, even if it meant she could stay with her unit.

"Sign me up, Commander," said Williams, wincing inwardly."I'd like a chance to get at the bastard who thought they could tango with the Marines."

"Welcome to the team, Chief!" Jenkins said, completely missing the bizarre nature of the situation. As far as he was concerned, anything Commander Shepard said, went.

Alenko shook his head.

Serviceman Bhatia cleared her throat. Her armor was white with blue detailing, and sported a red cross on one shoulder. "Chief Williams is the most capable soldier I have ever had the honor of serving with," Bhatia said with a slight Indian accent, "If she is going, then I will go too."

None of the other Marines in the Williams' unit volunteered. The Chief was sorry to leave them, but at least Nirali decided to come along. She was a good friend.

James breathed a sigh of relief. Only one extra addition, and it was one he was familiar with. Having Serviceman Bhatia on-board was better than promising her husband that he'd try to recover her body when he had no intention of doing so.

"Sorry Chief," said Corporal Methuselah. "I was born on the ground. I'd rather stay on the ground. You'll always be my favorite Gunnery Chief, though."

"Thanks, Corporal," said Williams. "That means a lot coming from you." It actually didn't.

"Colonel Shepard needs everyday heroes here," North said respectfully, "to help rebuild the colony. I couldn't sacrifice the needs of the people, even for a shot at glory."

Beck Shepard squinted off into the distance. "Yeah, I guess I'm going too."

"So am I," North affirmed.

Methuselah had a change of mind as well. "On second thought, I don't think I could go without my favorite Gunnery Chief."

Having nothing better to do, Wagner, Gomez, and Richards came forward after.

Commander Shepard furrowed his brow. Getting Anderson to get a decorated war hero like Beck on the ship would be one thing. Getting him to take Williams onboard was another, without Jenkins being KIA. Convincing him to take on a full squad of colonial Marines…. "Huh."

"Hey look," said Beck, shielding her eyes from the sun as it emerged from the clouds. "Here comes the November Sierra Romeo One."

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys! If you've read this far and would like to read more, read this part.<strong>

I would never have written past the first five chapters if I didn't receive any feedback from you guys.

My level of excitement for writing A Case of the Shepards is directly related to how many reviews I get of my work. Thus, more reviews equates to more excitement, which leads to more writing.  
><strong><br>** Ergo, if you like this story, write a review and you'll get more**.  
><strong>


	11. Something's Different

"Chakwas," said Commander Shepard, "Nihlus is up."

The Turian groaned and sat upright. His vision grew fuzzy, but it cleared with a shake of his head. Nihlus was in the medbay of the Normandy, his armor partially disassembled. "What happened to Saren?" he asked, following through with his coming-out-from-unconsciousness routine. He patted himself down and found that both arms and legs were still where they ought to be. Despite the heavy, painful pulsing inside his skull, he had no discernable physical injuries.

Dr. Chakwas, a graying woman with impeccable posture, stepped up to him and flashed a light in each of his eyes in turn. "Now follow," she directed. "You had quite a shock. How are you feeling?"

Nihlus kept his eyes trained on the light as the doctor moved it side to side. The light stabbed into his eyes. If felt like they could have rolled out of their sockets at any moment. "Better than usual," he answered, looking past her to Shepard. "What happened to Saren?" he repeated. "And the beacon?"

Dr. Chakwas stepped out of the way and gave the readouts from the monitoring equipment another look-over. She knew when she wasn't wanted, and treating an unwilling patient was next to impossible.

"The beacon exploded," said Shepard, pushing off the wall. "And Saren… there were snipers watching him the whole time. He got a bullet through the throat when he decided to put up a fight." There was regret in his eyes. "I did what I could, but I'm not a medic. I tried to save him. I'm sorry, Nihlus."

Nihlus found swallowing difficult. "Not at all Shepard," he replied evenly, standing up from the bed. "If anything, I'm relieved that he was put down before he could disgrace himself any further." Saren was dead. He had never been well liked or understood, nor had he wanted to be. The only thing Saren had ever been interested in, nuances and idiosyncrasies aside, was ensuring Citadel space's ongoing security. It's why he had taken in a younger Nihlus and sponsored his candidacy for the Spectres. Now the old Spectre was dead, leaving a pile of unanswered questions in his wake. Questions, Nihlus felt, that Shepard knew the answers of.

He saw the stripped portions of his armor laid out on a table nearby and headed over to begin reattaching them. "Anything I should be aware of, Doctor?" he asked, sliding a taloned hand back into its gauntlet.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but you're quite intact, Spectre Kryik," Chakwas said. "Aside from some light bruises, lacerations, and abrasions, you'll be fit as ever within a few days. There were a few abnormalities with your brain waves while you were out for the past fourteen hours, but it's all cleared up now."

Nihlus paused. Images of an apocalypse flashed before his eyes. The Prothean beacon had impaled his mind on them before he lost consciousness. "Abnormalities?" he said, looking over his shoulder.

"Mm," said Chakwas. "I'd normally associate it with dreaming, but the readings seemed peculiarly lively for a Turian. Nothing unheard of in relation to trauma to the head."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Nihlus. "If that's it, would you mind giving Shepard and I a moment?"

"Of course," Chakwas replied, turning to leave the room. "Give yourself a few hours before doing anything physically demanding, and inform me immediately if you black out or begin feeling nauseous."

Nihlus made an affirmative noise, and soon after, he was alone with the Commander. "I trust you explained what happened in your report to Captain Anderson?" he said, tilting his head and folding his arms.

"Enough," said Shepard. "We're heading to the Citadel. Our ambassador, Udina, has been trying to get an audience with the Council, but even if he can't, I'm sure they'd love to get a report from one of their Spectres."

Explaining the situation to the Council in person would be helpful. There were big things happening. Sure, Saren had died, but he'd set something in motion. The Geth were out in force and appeared to have hostile intentions. And they possessed a massive ship the likes of which had never been seen in Council space. No, this was far from over. They had barely glimpsed the fringes of Saren's design.

And then there was the story Saren spouted about Reapers and the end of days. It matched with the beacon's vision. If he'd been confronted with these two pieces of the puzzle alone, he might have dismissed them. However, if it was a lie, Saren was awfully affected when Commander Shepard jumped in and matched it part for part. He'd lost control. Saren was calculating, not delusional.

Nihlus watched Shepard carefully. He would pick this apart. "You said you tried to save Saren," he said. "What did you mean, Shepard?"

"I packed his wound with medigel, but I couldn't do anything about the internal injuries," Shepard replied. "He called off the Geth and he told me Matriarch Benezia was working with him before he went. He tried to do the right thing."

"I know he did. That's all he ever did," Nihlus growled. "You said you tried to save Saren. What did you mean, Shepard?" he repeated.

Shepard furrowed his brow, as if he didn't understand the question. "I tried to preserve his life," he answered slowly. "He was bleeding from a gunshot wound to the base of the neck."

Nihlus sighed. He was going to disobey Dr. Chakwas's orders and do something physically demanding.

The Spectre surged forward, grabbed Shepard, and slammed him into a wall. The Commander had no time to react, being taken by surprise. Nihlus held him there without issue, mostly because Shepard didn't struggle. "I have a rule," he hissed. "I don't ask a question more than three times. Think before you answer, Shepard. Carefully." He let the Commander down.

Shepard rubbed his neck and leaned on a bed. He looked defeated. "Shoot," he said.

Satisfied, Nihlus asked his question. "You said you tried to save Saren. What did you mean?"

Miserable would have been a good way to describe the Commander at that moment. "I knew I could say what he needed to hear," he said lowly, his voice hollow. "So I did. And he still died."

Something in Shepard's words disturbed Nihlus. "I've never seen anyone get under Saren's skin like that before. You accused him of being indoctrinated. Of betraying us to the Reapers. How did you know to use those terms specifically?"

"He told me that's what worried him on Virmire," Shepard replied. "They were his doubts about what he was doing. I said what I said because that's what worked the first time, but it didn't work this time. I screwed up the context." He stared at the wall. "I changed the script too much."

"Slow down Shepard, you're losing me," said Nihlus. "What do you mean, 'that's what worked the first time'? And how does this connect with the Reapers?"

"The Reapers won the first time, Nihlus. It's a long story."

"So what? We're in space. Millions of kilometers of empty void envelop us in every direction," said Nihlus. "I have the time if you have the patience."


	12. Conspiracy Theory

"Look Lieutenant…" Ashley tried to pull the smooth, dark haired Marine's name out from the back of her mind. "Alenko. I'd appreciate it if you kept this 'secret meeting' short. I'm having a lot of trouble plugging six soldiers plus me into the crew of a ship smaller than a swimming pool. Right now, I've got a lot of asses to kiss and shit to eat and I don't have a lot of time to do either."

Captain Anderson had been less than enthusiastic about the additions to the crew, but the Commander had talked him into it. Said it would be good to have a real ground team instead of some elite lone wolf hyper delta force spec ops crap.

And then there was the Colonel. Williams suspected that the one of the leading reasons they received a place onboard was that no one in the Normandy's crew, the Turian Spectre included, would have been able to remove Beck from the ship.

Lieutenant Alenko held up his hands. "I realize you're in a compromising position, Chief. I don't envy you," he said. "I just wanted to talk for a bit."

They were at the end of the sleeper pod hallway. Though a few of the beds were occupied, the area wasn't subject to much foot traffic.

Williams narrowed her eyes. "What about?"

"Today," Alenko said. "All of it. I landed a few klicks away from the train station where Saren brought the beacon. Shepard handled the Geth like a pro – I don't think one came close to actually threatening me the entire time I was down there. This being the same Geth that no one's seen in hundreds of years, the same ones that wiped out a full half of Eden Prime's garrison – who were, by the way, combat ready and deployed into defensible positions around the primary landing sites," he added. "And then you just happened to be in the perfect position to snipe the temporary cargo storage platform on the back of the station, where Saren just happened to bring the beacon, even though there were multiple locations nearby that offered more cover and better lines of sight? Any of that sound a little strange to you?" He watched Williams for a reply.

She gave him a careful look. "Spend a lot of time thinking about this, Lieutenant?" she asked.

"Bragging is the last thing I'd want to do," he replied with a cynical smile, "But yes, I have."

"Okay," the Chief replied. "Short answer? Yes. Everything about today is weirding me out. Long answer? If it weren't for Colonel Shepard, the Geth would have wiped out the other half of the servicemen on Eden Prime. My squad wouldn't be here. I might not be here. Maybe you might not even be here," she told him, pushing a finger into his chest. "Do you think your hike to the station was easy just because the Commander was with you? He played a part, sure. But if we weren't giving those synthetics hell on the ground, the Geth might have had the leeway to take you apart. Finally, if all that wasn't enough," she said, concluding, "Commander Shepard just handed me this assignment on a silver platter, a posting anyone else in the Alliance would fight tooth and nail to keep a Williams out of. I hope my position on the matter doesn't sound too strange to you."

"Look," said Alenko, backpedalling, "I'm not trying to defame either Shepard here. I'm just saying this isn't coincidence. Call it what you may, we're part of something no one's figured out but Shepard."

Ashley understood where the LT was coming from. "No, I get it," she said, taking a breath. "Sorry for biting your head off. I'm kind of in an awkward transitional phase here. I've been mulling over the same stuff ever since the Colonel picked me out of a crowd and fed me some really whacky explanation for why she needed me to go with her," Williams confessed. "Things shooting at me, that I can handle. But throw me into a river of riddles and put me in the same boat as the guy slated to be the first human Spectre? That's a little overwhelming. I don't know where to start."

Alenko rubbed his chin. "I could help out there," he said. "Have you talked with Engineer Adams?"

"Who?"

"Then it sounds like a good place to start," he said, smiling. "Follow me."

* * *

><p>Made Nightwing did me the favor of pointing out the the conspicuous absence of Nirali Bhatia. Thanks man. She completely slipped my mind. I went back and did a little bit of fixing in relation to Williams' Marines. If you don't want to sift through thousands of words to find a few little changes, then just know that Bhatia is the squad's medic and is a close friend of the chief's, and that Richards is the unit's communications specialist. I don't expect the squad to have major screen time, especially the OCs, but they will come up every now and then.<p>

Thanks for reading, and I hope you're enjoying the story so far.


	13. Reservations

"What'd you do then?" Jenkins asked, eyes wide.

Beck picked at her teeth. "I punched him in the face," she replied. "Broke his nose."

The Colonel reclined in her seat with her boots up on the mess table. Jenkins and a few of Williams' Marines sat with her, completely sucked into the story.

"I'd have shot him, whether or not he was armed," Private North commented. "You're an embodiment of fucking mercy, Colonel."

She dismissed the idea with a wave. "Nah. Not really."

Methuselah wasn't buying it. "Come on. He'd just put your unit through hell, and once you got your hands on him, all you did was break his nose?" He snorted. "That's a level of self-control I never want to achieve."

"Maybe," said Shepard. "But they tell me I hit him so hard that when his nose broke, it shoved back into his brain. He was dead before he hit the ground." She gave a satisfied half-smile. "Actually kinda cool now that I think about it."

The Marines became quiet.

Commander Shepard walked by the table just then. He stopped. "Sorry Marines, but I need to speak with the Colonel for a moment," he said. "Beck?"

"Keep on breathing Leathernecks," she said, withdrawing her feet from the table and standing. "And I'm pretty sure Williams had you all on KP. Go shine something."

The soldiers scattered quickly and with few words.

Beck faced her brother. "You've got your moment."

Shepard glanced at the servicemen chatting not too far off. "Let's go somewhere less public."

They headed into the elevator and set it to go down. When it was about halfway between decks, Beck triggered the emergency stop with a flash of her omni-tool.

James and Beck made themselves comfortable on opposite sides of the elevator.

"So," said James. "Who have you told?"

"I'm not good with secrets," Beck replied. "Ashley knows something's up for sure. And I'm guessing from the hour you spent locked in the medbay with your old-dead-now-alive friend Nihlus, he knows too. Hows about Captain Anderson?"

"I didn't tell David anything," said James. "But Kaiden is going to press me for answers soon. He's only got so much patience."

It was as the Colonel had expected. "Okay. What now? We're gonna be at the Citadel in an hour. With Saren dead and you backed up by a real Spectre," she said, "I don't see any way where those rear echelon mother fuckers in the Council don't back us up."

"Between me and Nihlus," James said, "I'm sure we can get the Council to believe that the Reapers are coming. They'll want proof, but we won't keep them waiting long. If we get Liara to share her findings about the Prothean extinction, as well as read out the vision in Nihlus's head, I think we'll be in good shape."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Fuck off, Watson."

Beck scowled. "Look. Saren's dead," she stated. "Think about it for one fucking second. That's fucking fantastic for us and the Council, but it screws us over in getting our team back on the roster."

James frowned. "It's not that bad," he said. "Even though Saren died, Fist still betrayed the Shadow Broker. That means Wrex is still en route to fulfill his contract. And Tali still has the audio file proving Saren masterminded the attack on Eden Prime and that Benezia's working with him. Even Garrus is probably investigating Saren to see what else he was up to before you killed him."

"No, he's not," said Beck. "The Council knows Saren went rogue. We've got the corpse to prove it. That means they locked C-Sec out of the investigation. They want things done right. They're putting their own guys on the case. And now Benezia's calling the shots, not Saren. She's got different resources. Who knows who she's sending to eliminate Tali? Miss nar Rayya could be dead already."

"Benezia's more indoctrinated right now than Saren was," James argued. "That means she's less independent and less of a threat. She's nothing more than a shell."

"Oh yeah," Beck said scornfully. "Great news, right? Wrong. The beacon's gone. Sovereign has no idea where Illos and the Conduit are. That means its plan is shot. The Reaper's going to be looking for a new agent and a new plan, James. Sovereign's not putting up with Benezia for long, I can promise you that. Whatever break we're getting right now is just that – a break."

"I know, I know," James said. "I'm just talking about the short term."

Beck grunted. "Fine," she said.

"We know how this went down the first time," continued James. "But that's not going to cut it this time around. We've changed the playing field."

"And?"

"That means we change our game plan. When we come into the Citadel, we hit the ground running and we don't stop until we're back on the Normandy, getting ready to cast off from dock."

Beck saw where this was going. "We split up," she said.

"Right," said James. "I'll go with Nihlus and Anderson. Alenko and Jenkins will come with me since they were on the ground when we saw Saren with the beacon. We'll handle the Council, and I'll make sure we get the Normandy to ourselves to hunt down Benezia. All the diplomatic stuff you hate so much."

"Good. I'm taking everyone else then," said Beck. "You have fun chatting with that SOB Udina. I'll go kill whatever's chasing Tali, help Wrex bag Fist, and talk Garry into leaving his job. Shouldn't take more than what, forty-five minutes? We'll meet up with you guys in the Presidium for lunch."

"Sounds tasty," James said, grinning. "Where should I get the reservations? Somewhere casual, or exotic?"

"So long as I get to take weapons to the table, I don't care," Beck said. She hesitated before adding, "But make sure their menu has something spicy on it."

"I'll check. Just for you," said James.

Beck glared at her brother as she opened her omni-tool and unstuck the elevator.


End file.
